


The End Is Here

by whispered_story



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_story/pseuds/whispered_story
Summary: Ever since the virus started spreading and the infected starting roaming the country, Jared has been living on the streets, trying his best to survive. Living in the nearby camp of survivors might be easier, except dealing with people can be more difficult than dealing with infected—especially when one of those people is Jensen. After all, getting involved gives you more to lose.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [J2_Reversebang](http://j2-reversebang.livejournal.com/). Please note the warnings in the tags!
> 
> [ART](http://quickreaver.livejournal.com/148232.html) by the amazing [quickreaver](). Definitely go check it out, because it's beyond gorgeous.
> 
> Fic beta'd by [dancing_adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_adrift) and [non_tiembo_mala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/) ♥

Jared rams the butt of his gun under the chin of the thing—not a person, _no longer a person_ —attacking him. Its head snaps back with a satisfying crack of bones and he kicks it in the gut for good measure, too. The body crumbles to the floor and Jared lifts his gun, shooting it in the head without a moment of hesitation.

There are more coming, heavy footsteps audible on the dry, broken pavement. It doesn't sound like more than two or three, and Jared knows if he's lucky they'll be distracted long enough by the remnants of the infected he just killed for him to get away. But the sound of his gun going off will probably have attracted more and they'll be here soon enough, so he knows he needs to get out of here as soon as he can.

He clutches the strap of his backpack and starts running. 

He's familiar with the streets after months of living on them, knows the outline of the downtown area like the back of his own hand. He expertly takes a few turns before he ducks into a dark alley and comes to a stop to take a few deep breaths. When he hears footsteps, he whirls around, raising his gun.

"Easy," a familiar voice says, and Jensen steps out of the shadowy entrance of the alley. His lips are quirked up in a small smile and it makes a rush of affection, desire shoot through Jared. He pushes those feelings down quickly and schools his expression into a scowl, lowering his gun again. 

"You want me to shoot you, you idiot?" he asks harshly. He tugs a strand of hair that's come loose from his messy bun behind his ear with an annoyed huff.

"You'd never. I'm too pretty," Jensen teases, unconcerned, and it does nothing to quench Jared's anger.

The thing he has with Jensen is complicated. They met a few months ago, just a few weeks after Jared first set foot into the city. The first time it was easy. Jensen's incredibly attractive and Jared didn't need much convincing to go home with him. Home being a fenced-off camp outside the city where Jensen lives in the basement of an old stone house. Jensen had taken him there and they'd spent the night together and it had been good. More than good. Just like every time Jared has been with Jensen since. 

Sex isn't the problem for them. In-between all the death and gore, it's like a lifesaver, an escape from everything. It offers Jared a few moments of pleasure, of feeling alive and blowing off steam. But the way Jensen touches him, tender and slow, kisses him all sweet and soft, that is what complicate things. That is what Jared doesn't want, doesn't want to want, because it's too much, too tempting.

"What are you even doing here?" he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jensen shrugs. "Same as you, I suppose. I was out looking for supplies," he says and moves closer, stopping right in front of Jared. "Nice moves against that zombie."

Jared grits his teeth because he hates that term. Zombies make him think of bad horror flicks and this, their lives, is anything but a movie now. There are other terms he's heard used as well; the undead or the living dead, most notably, which both sound awfully melodramatic to Jared. To him, it's nothing but a disease; a horrible, terrifying disease that turns people into blood-thirsty, violent _things_. Infected. 

Jensen's words finally register fully and Jared frowns. "You saw that?" he asks. "Were you following me?"

"Someone has to watch out for your ass," Jensen teases and brings his hand up. Fingers brush over Jared's cheekbone, and he flinches at the slight pain. The infected that had attacked him came out of nowhere and Jared managed to duck out of the way at the last moment, crashing into the wall behind him cheek first to get away, before he managed to get the upperhand.

"I don't need a babysitter," he snaps, pushing Jensen's hand away. "Or a stalker."

Jensen makes a tsk-ing noise, and glances over his shoulder. The movement looks almost lazy, like he doesn't have a care in the world and Jared hates him for it. He knows it's not true. Jensen cares, more than Jared would like him to, but he's always calm, composed. He lacks the restlessness, the anger, the gut-wrenching fear Jared feels every damn day of his life.

"Let's get going," Jensen suggests, hitching his own backpack higher on his shoulder. It looks heavy, full. 

It seems Jensen’s day has been a lot more successful than his. Jared found some medical supplies—bandages and bandaids and a half-empty bottle of out-of-date Tylenol—but he hasn't had much luck when it comes to food. One dented can of string beans that he found in a collapsed and raided cupboard in a house, and a half-empty package of dried lentils. He has some food stored away, his few meager remains currently stored in a crumbled shed on the city's outskirts. The roof of the building caved, so few people ever go looking for shelter there, which means it's more or less a safe place for Jared to keep his things while he's out in the city. Not that he has much—a few changes of clothes, a sleeping bag, his emergency stash of food and a small array of weapons and tools.

On cue, his stomach growls a little. He hasn't been eating enough lately, because he hasn't been having a lot of luck looking for food and he's been trying not to raid his emergency stash completely.

"Jared," Jensen prompts.

"What? You're just going to assume I'm coming with you?" Jared snarks, lifting his chin in a show of defiance. "I've got places to be. Things to do."

Jensen gives him a small, lopsided grin. "Yeah? Got big plans?"

"Maybe," Jared replies, voice a little harsh.

Jensen's grin softens. "Jay, you look beat. You need rest, some decent food."

"Oh sorry, I'll book a spa weekend somewhere nice right away," Jared mutters, rolling his eyes. "I can take care of myself just fine, you know?"

Jensen sighs and touches Jared's forearm. His hand is warm on Jared's skin. "I know you can," he says. "But staying with me comes with some perks."

He wiggles his eyebrows, all teasing and exaggerated, and Jared feels his resolve weaken. They both know Jared will give in, they've known all along —he always does. He fights Jensen tooth and nail, but every time they've met over the last few months, Jared ended up back at Jensen's place. And it's been pretty damn great every time, too. He's just terrified Jensen will someday expect something, that they'll do this more and more and Jared will stay away less. He needs this—being on his own, having nobody else depend on him, no one he depends on, either.

"Come on," Jensen coaxes, even softer. "We shouldn't stay around too long."

Jared wants to argue with him some more, just for the hell of it, but Jensen's right. Walking the city is dangerous enough as it these days and lingering in one place, _talking_ , is just plain stupid. So Jared huffs a breath and follows.

+

The first time Jared went home with Jensen he did so for two reasons.

One, Jensen is crazy attractive. Jared wasn't much for casual sex before the virus started spreading, but he's come to appreciate it. It's a good way to let go, to forget about the craziness outside for a while. And it's not like Jared has plenty of offers—there are few enough people left as it is and even less of them are gay, or straight but willing to sleep with him as long as they get laid. 

The other reason Jared went home with Jensen was that he was curious about the camp. He'd heard murmurs about places like this before, but never actually came across one. This one isn't very big—maybe fifty or so people living in a cluster of old farm houses and newly built huts, surrounded by acres of farmland and protected by a high, sturdy fence. He'd wanted to find out what it was like, how it worked, to see it with his own two eyes after living on the streets for so long. It's as safe as a place can be in this day and age, Jared supposes, and yet he feels trapped rather than protected whenever he's there. 

As many perks as the camp offers—homegrown food, a community, Jensen—Jared can't see himself living there. And he knows he could. He's not sure if they have any policies on who they let in, who can stay, but Jensen has made it clear that Jared is welcome to stay with him, be with him, if he wants to. But Jared has never stayed for more than one night. He gets this itch under his skin to get out, be on his own and return to the city. It's dangerous and unpredictable, but Jared is his own man there and he likes the independence life in the city affords him.

They've never really talked about it. After Jensen first offered him a permanent place and Jared declined, he never brought it up again. He lets Jared go every time, yet always welcomes him back.

+

The safest way in and out of the city is the sewage system. Jared hates it—the smell, the darkness, the walls enclosing him—but he can't deny its usefulness.

He follows Jensen down the steep ladder into the darkness, and tries not to breathe in too deeply. Standing under the open sewage cover, the light dim, Jared watches Jensen pull a flashlight from his backpack and switch it on. It's red and hand-powered and Jensen gives the handle a few twists.

"This thing is from IKEA. Who thought I'd ever think that store was useful for something, huh?" he'd said the first time he'd led Jared through the sewage system.

Now, Jensen turns left and starts walking, Jared following. They walk silently, cautiously, the small circle of light bobbing up and down with Jensen's steps. The chance of encountering an infected down here is slim, unless one fell into an open manhole and managed not to break its neck. Jared isn't sure about what exactly the disease does to people—it spread too fast, killed too quickly for scientists and doctors to figure the virus out—but it's made them a lot less agile. They can manage stairs, though a lot more slowly than humans, but anything steeper, requiring to hold onto something, is pretty much impossible for them. Most movies Jared remembers watching at least got that much right. Which means the sewage system and buildings that can only be accessed via fire escapes are safe and Jared is pretty sure that's the only reason there are still some survivors left.

They're still careful, picking their way through the maze of underground tunnels and Jared keeps one hand on his gun. Infected aren't the only threat, after all.

At each junction, Jensen lets the light travel over the walls until he finds a blue arrow, smeared on the wall. Jared isn't sure who came up with the idea, but it's a good system, leading north toward the camp. 

They use the sewage system as far as they can, stopping under an open manhole. Jensen switches of his flashlight and they listen for any noise coming from above.

"Think we're safe," Jensen murmurs after a few moments. He turns to Jared, giving him a small grin. "See you up there, gorgeous."

Jared nods and watches Jensen climb the ladder. He stops with his head peeking out, and Jared holds his breath, exhaling only when Jensen continues and hoists himself out. He adjusts his backpack and follows.

The last part of the journey is done overground. There are a few scattered houses here and there, until the space opens up to fields, overgrown after years of disuse. They're safer from infected in the wide openness, because they can't come at them from out of nowhere and they congregate in the cities, but at the same time there's nowhere to hide from other humans and their guns here. Jared stays alert as he falls into step next to Jensen.

He lets himself sneak glances at Jensen though. Jensen's hair looks lighter in the sunlight, freckles standing out on his tan skin. He's wearing a gray t-shirt, stained with dirty, black smudges all over it, and light blue jeans with ripped knees, holes in the thighs and back. Everyone's clothes are ratty these days, yet Jensen still looks great; he's one of those people who Jared supposes can make anything look good, even dirty, used clothes that are all that's left after humanity went all but extinct. 

Every now and then, the angle of his arms allows Jared glimpses of Jensen's tattoo as they walk side by side, the black letters standing out against tan skin of his forearm— _the end is near_ , but the letter n is crossed out and an h is tattooed above it. Their first night together, Jared licked over the lines of each letter, almost expecting to be able to feel them against his tongue.

He wonders what Jensen was like before. Jared knows Jensen used to be a physical therapist, and he wonders what kind of clothes he wore, if he looked put together and preppy, or stylish and cool. If he kept his hair messy like he does now, or neatly combed. If the tattoo is old or if Jensen got it because of the virus. He never bothered to ask; the less he knows about Jensen, the easier it is to keep his distance.

"You'd almost think nothing is wrong out here," Jensen muses, breaking the silence and Jared's train of thoughts. "It's so damn peaceful. Creeps me out."

"You'd rather there be a racket right now? 'Cause that means we'd have a bunch of infected rushing at us or crazies with guns," Jared says with a snort.

Jensen gives him a small smile. "True," he admits. "Guess that means I should be creeped out either way."

"And isn't that great? You gotta love our lives, man," Jared snarks.

Jensen shrugs. "There are still some things about it that make it worth living."

"Like what?" Jared asks, his voice coming out bitter. He asks himself that question every now and then, why he keeps going when he feels like there's nothing left in this world for him. Yet, here he still is, for a reason he can't even figure out himself.

Jensen is silent for a moment, and Jared steels himself for a long-winded, thoughtful answer. Something that will make Jared grit his teeth and trigger a heated discussion between them. Not a fight, because Jensen isn't the type to let himself be baited. He stays calm, patient, even when faced with Jared's anger and snark. It's one of the things that irritates Jared the most about Jensen, even when he can't help but admire him for it.

To his surprise, Jensen reaches over and palms his ass, giving it a quick squeeze. "You in my bed, gorgeous," he drawls out, tone exaggerated. It still makes Jared's stomach swoop.

"Oh shut up," he mutters and nudges Jensen away with his elbow, but he's grinning.

+

Jensen has a second fence around his place. It's not quite as sturdy as the one around the camp, but it's an extra layer of protection. It's secured with a heavy padlock and Jensen carries the key around his neck. Jared knows there's a second one, buried in a little box five feet to the right, under a stone that's about as big as a football. Jensen told him about it a while ago—"In case you ever want to come here and I'm not around."

Jensen lets them inside and locks the padlock again, looping the leather string with the key back around his neck when he's done.

The small house Jensen lives in has seen better days. Some of the shingles on the roof are missing, moss and vines covering half of the place. A couple of windows are cracked, broken. The grounds around it are well-kept and taken care of, though. Jensen uses most of it to grow vegetables, things he can either eat or use to trade with other people in the camp. 

There's also an old hand pump next to a wooden bench that has caved in. Jensen pumps some water into a bowl and they clean up as best as they can before going inside. 

There are a few things that tell Jared that Jensen isn't quite as unaffected, as cool as he appears to be. The fence, for one. The other thing is that the first and second floor of the house are pretty much untouched, and Jensen lives in the basement instead. It's colder there, darker, but also safer. The windows, up high on the walls near the ceiling, are barred and small and there's only one way in and out. And Jensen has enough weapons and ammunition to fight an entire horde of infected, should they ever get as far as his house and make it down those stairs.

"So," Jared says once they've made it to the basement. He's kicked his shoes off in a corner and then takes off his socks and pulls off his shirt, while Jensen drops both of their bags in a corner, by the shelf that he has stocked with food and supplies. "What do you want to do?"

Jensen looks at him, eyes traveling up and down Jared's body once, and grins. "Oh, I don't know. Play cards? Maybe talk a little?"

"That's too bad. I was hoping for something more exciting," Jared replies. He undoes his jeans, fingers working quickly, and pushes them down. They slide down easily, a little too big for Jared's slim hips, and he steps out of them and tosses them aside.

"What did you have in mind?" Jensen asks, tone teasing. He crosses the distance between them and pulls off his own shirt.

Jared sinks down onto the mattress, the messy bedding under him adding an extra layer of softness. He's not used to things like this anymore. Jared sleeps on hard floors most nights and while in the old days this place would have been considered a dump, it's a rare luxury now. Jared lets himself enjoy the feeling for a few moments, the hard lines of his back relaxing.

Jensen watches him with a soft smile, unmoving where he stands by the side of the mattress. 

"Get down here already," Jared says, rolling his eyes at him. 

"You want me to? Or do you want some time alone with my bed?" Jensen asks, and Jared hates him a little for being able to read him so easily. Wordlessly, Jared pushes his boxer-briefs down his legs and raises his eyebrows in a clear challenge.

Jensen smirks. "It was just a friendly offer," he says. But he starts stripping off the rest of his clothes, too, and then crawls onto the mattress with Jared, situating himself between Jared's legs. He nudges Jared's thighs a little further apart with one knee and runs warm, calloused hands up Jared's legs, to his hips. He lets them rest there, fingers spanning over Jared's skin, and Jared's muscles twitch under the gentle touch.

"You're beautiful," Jensen murmurs.

"You don't have to butter me up. I'm already a sure thing, Jensen," Jared replies, shifting. Jensen's words make his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Mmm," Jensen hums in agreement. He leans down, lips brushing over Jared's belly. "You're still beautiful."

Jensen mutters it into his skin—quiet, sweet—and Jared tries very hard to focus on Jensen's touch instead. He sighs, relaxes when Jensen doesn't say anything else, just trails his mouth up Jared's stomach to his chest. Jared puts his hands on Jensen's head, fingers curling in his hair, holds but doesn't guide him. Jensen knows Jared's body well enough by now to know which buttons to push. He runs his tongue over Jared's left nipple, light and teasing, then with more pressure than before he sucks the nub into his mouth. At the same time, he brings a hand up to the other nipple and twists it between the tip of two fingers, just this side of painful. Jared arches up into it, the first moan falling from his parted lips. He's growing harder, cock filling rapidly, and he can feel Jensen's cock, too, heavy and thick against his hip.

"What do you want?" Jensen asks, moving further up. He bites at Jared's collarbone, before sucking a wet kiss into the curve of Jared's neck. "Tell me."

"Fuck," Jared curses. 

"Jared," Jensen says, teasing.

Jared spreads his legs wider, puts his feet flat onto the mattress and rocks up against the warm body on top of his. "Fuck me," he pants.

"Yeah?" Jensen asks. His brings his hand up from Jared's nipple to his mouth, rubbing the pads of his middle and pointed finger over Jared's lips. "Get them wet for me then, baby. Gotta open you up first."

Jared nods and sucks Jensen's fingers into his mouth. They taste clean, a little salty and Jared swirls his tongue around them. He curls his hand around Jensen's wrist, holds it in place, and moves his mouth up and down his fingers, getting them slick with spit. He grins, hearing Jensen let out a small gasp.

"Sweetheart, keep that up and this is going to be over real fast," Jensen warns gruffly. Jared pulls his mouth off Jensen's fingers with a wet pop.

"I'm not your _sweetheart_ ," he says, even though he knows Jensen won’t stop calling him all these ridiculous pet names. He never does. "And I'm just doing what you told me to."

"And you're always such a good, obedient boy, huh?"

"Always," Jared mocks and curls his leg around Jensen's hip. "Now come on."

"Has nobody ever told you to be patient?" Jensen asks, but he reaches down, rubbing his fingers over the crease where his thigh and crotch meet before sliding lower, between Jared's legs. At the first brush of fingers against his hole, Jared tosses his head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy moan. Jensen rubs his fingers over Jared's hole in circles, teasing, before he slides the first finger in. He goes slow, inch by inch, pulling back a few times before pushing in a little deeper.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jared says and shifts, rocking down on Jensen a little. "Gimme more."

Jensen kisses his neck and slides his finger in and out a few times before he presses a second finger in alongside the first. Jared's spit isn't enough for it to be really slick, but Jared doesn't mind. He likes the slight burn, the drag, the way he feels himself contract around Jensen before he relaxes slowly. And Jensen always preps him carefully, ignoring Jared's pleas for more until he deems him ready.

For the third finger, Jensen uses a bit of oil. Jared's not quite sure where Jensen always gets this stuff from, but the pink plastic cap tells Jared is must be some kind of cosmetic product or maybe massage oil he found in a store. It smells nice, sweet, and Jensen slides three fingers into him easily. Jared feels the stretch now, Jensen's fingers thick, and he rocks down on them slowly, hands fisted into the bedding under him.

"Jensen, more," he pleads, the word tapering off into a gasp when Jensen brushes over his prostate. 

"You were saying?" Jensen teases.

"Want you to fuck me. _Now_." Jared shifts, restless. "I'm ready."

Jensen twists his fingers inside of him, mouthing at Jared's collarbone, but then he pulls out and sits back.

"Okay. Okay," he says, voice soothing. "Any more demands?"

Jared knows Jensen is mostly teasing, but he's about to run out of patience. So he curls a leg around Jensen's waist and flips them over. Jensen makes a small, surprised noise, but lets himself be rolled onto his back. Jared settles on top of his thighs, reaching for the oil to slick Jensen up, grinning at the way Jensen's breath catches at his touch.

He lifts up, holding Jensen's cock at the base and positioning himself over it. He lowers himself, shifts until he feels the head of Jensen's dick brush against his hole, and then sinks down on it. Jensen's cock is big, stretching him so much wider than his fingers did.

"Oh fuck. Slow, Jared. Slow; I don't want to hurt you," Jensen groans, but Jared doesn't stop until he's fully seated on top of Jensen, his cock buried all the way inside of him. The burn is perfect, the way he feels like he's being split open around Jensen and filled to the point where it's almost too much. He gives himself a few moments to adjust before he starts moving. With one hand on Jensen's chest, Jared pushes up and sinks back down on him, enjoying the feel of Jensen's slick cock inside of him. He sets a steady rhythm, riding Jensen, his own dick hard and heavy, his balls already feeling too tight.

He's panting, white heat rolling down his spine in waves of pleasure, as he rides Jensen. The angle keeps an almost constant pressure against his prostate, Jensen's cock dragging against it as Jared moves himself up and down.

"Jay. Jared," Jensen moans, hands on Jared's thighs, fingers digging into the flesh. He's rocking his hips up into Jared, sharp and fast in a way that only spurs Jared on. And then he wraps a hand around Jared's cock and starts jerking him off with slow, long strokes. 

Jared comes first with a cry, back arching and muscles tensing as he spills stickily onto both of them. Jensen's hands tighten on him and he thrusts up into Jared, and Jared feels it when he comes inside of him, hot and sticky.

+

Curled up, Jared dozes with his head resting on Jensen's chest.

Jensen is drawing circles onto Jared's shoulder with a thumb, while the other hand plays with his hair. His fingers are tugging at the hairband that's still holding Jared's hair together, until the messy little bun comes loose and he can run his fingers through the tangled mess.

For a few moments, Jared lets his eyes fall shut and he just enjoys the moment. Touch has become somewhat of a rarity in his life. He's alone most of the time and even the people he's gotten to know over the last few months—people like him who live in the city and prefer to be on their own—aren't close to him like that. They sometimes go on raids together, trade food, sometimes even stay in the same places since the hideouts aren't countless. But they all keep their distance—even the few people Jared would probably call his friends—and he's okay with that. Likes it that way, even. 

But occasionally he craves this. Craves being held by someone, by _Jensen_ , touched so casually. He soaks these moments up, stores them away for when he's on his own again.

+

Jared leaves early the next morning. Jensen wakes up as he's getting dressed, blinking tiredly at him, but he doesn't say a word.

When Jared is ready, he grabs his bag. 

"See you around?" Jensen asks, voice quiet. Jared gives him a quick nod.

"Thanks for last night, Jensen," he says. It sounds a bit like a brush-off, but the words are sincere, and he gives Jensen a small, crooked smile before he turns around and leaves.

Outside, the sky is cloudy, the weather considerably cooler than just the day before. Jared hauls himself over the fence, ignores the way the wire digs into his palms as he does so, and starts walking without taking another look back.

+

Jared heads straight for the shed where he keeps his things. It's a long walk and halfway there it starts raining lightly. It's just a drizzle, but Jared is still soaked to the skin by the time he makes it to the shed, wet hair sticking to his scalp and falling into his eyes.

The caved-in roof makes the shed less than ideal in weather like this, but part of it is more or less covered still. Unless there's a storm, it's enough shelter for Jared and at least he knows he'll be left alone here. There's nothing around but empty fields, nothing to attract either infected or other people. The only farmhouse nearby was burned down to the ground, only a small part of one wall still standing. 

Jared ducks inside and pushes some junk—wooden boards, an old table, a rusty bike—in front of the shed's door to block it off as best as he can, just in case. 

Then he pulls his things from where they're hidden in a corner, covered by more junk. He gets out a change of clothes first, stripping off his wet things. The cold air makes him shiver, his damp skin pebbling, and he quickly gets dressed before he wraps himself up in his sleeping bag. 

Dinner that night is a can of peaches that taste like nothing but artificial sweetener. He'd rather have something warm, especially in this kind of weather, but he doesn't dare light a fire out here, drawing someone or something to him, and he doesn't want to waste any matches either. 

It's a miserable evening, cold and hungry and uncomfortable, and yet it's far from the most miserable evening Jared’s ever had.

+

That night Jared dreams of his childhood home, of warm comfy beds and Texas sunshine.

+

Jared has a system for his raids, picking a street and then looking through the buildings one after the other, coming back to the street after each one until he's checked every last place. Sometimes he goes through a slump and he has to ration his supplies carefully, eat a little less than he wishes he could until he strikes gold again. He usually can find something no matter where he goes if he just digs hard enough though; most places have been raided already, but perseverance generally pays off and he finds things that have been left behind.

Over the next few weeks, the weather fluctuates a lot and it makes things a little tougher. Infected don't seem to be bothered by rain, but Jared tries to stay mostly inside on those days because he can't afford to get sick. 

When the rain gets too bad or his raids take too long, he doesn't go back to the shed and finds shelter in the city instead. Occasionally, that means having to deal with other people. There aren't many in the city, because few buildings are secure enough that infected can't get in, but even out of those few people Jared would only trust a handful to sleep in the same building with.

There's Chad, who Jared literally stumbled upon his first week in the city. Chad curses more than anyone Jared has ever met and likes to run his mouth, but he shies away from touch, never meeting someone's eyes when they talk to him. Briana he met through Chad. She's a genuinely nice person, sweet even, but she gets twitchy when she spends more than a couple of hours with people and is better with a knife than any other person Jared has ever met. Adrianne is probably the person Jared is closest to. She refuses to spend time with most people, but she has a soft spot for him. She doesn't talk, and Jared doesn't know if she can't or won't, but she sometimes will communicate with Jared via notes. It's the most he knows he can expect from her. 

They're people Jared likes, maybe even trusts, but none of them like to spend a lot of time with other people. Jared assumes maybe that's why they live in the city and not the camp, even if it would be safer. It's not something he really ever asked any of them about, and he's glad nobody asks him either. Not even Jensen—he might badger him to stay with him, but he never questions why Jared prefers being alone, lets him go every time without putting up a fight.

In the city, Jared always tries to find a place that isn't occupied yet. Some people, like Chad, have fixed places, while others, like Jared, move around. Sometimes, if he's having no luck finding a place for the night, he'll go to Chad's, but he tries to avoid it if possible. 

Currently, he's working himself through a residential area in the southern part of the city. The houses there have all been ransacked before, but there's still a lot of useful stuff that has been left behind—clothes, some food, medical supplies and tools. Jared's been pretty happy with his findings over the last few days and he's been able to stock up a little.

Family homes aren't good places to stay the night though, because they're harder to secure. So, with the shed being quite a long walk away from the residential area, Jared returns downtown to seek out the tall office buildings there for a while.

One of those nights, after heavy bouts of rain during the day, Jared ends up in an old office building with Adrianne. The windows on the ground floor are barred and the heavy doors have been locked and blocked with debris, leaving only the fire escape to get in and out. Adrianne is staying on the sixth floor and when Jared runs into her not too far from the building, she waves for him to follow her.

She's a little tense as Jared settles in, but she smiles at him when Jared offers to share his food with her. They split a can of cold ravioli between them and a bag of stale, chewy gummy candy that Jared found the day before.

There's some furniture left in the former office—overturned tables and chairs on the floor, filing cabinets. They don't use any of those though, sitting on their sleeping bags on the floor instead.

After a while, Adrianne pulls out her notepad and pen and writes something down before sliding it over to Jared. 'Haven't seen you in a while', she's written.

Jared meets her eyes for a second and shrugs. "I've been around, here and there. You know me, I like to stay busy." 

Adrianne nods and grabs her notepad again to write something else down. Then she turns it around so he can read it. 'seen your boy lately?'

"He's not my boy." 

Adrianne raises her eyebrows, gives him a quick grin. 

Jared sighs. "I saw him not too long ago." 

'Saw or saw?' Adrianne writes next.

"You're being nosy," Jared teases and pulls his legs up against his chest. "And I spent the night with him, if you need to know." 

Adrianne stretches her legs, a smirk on her lips. 

"It's nothing," Jared defends himself. "He's hot. He wants me. It's not big deal." 

'Never said it was', Adrianne scrawls down, turning the notepad toward him just long enough to read before she writes down more, adding, 'he seems to be a good guy though. I sometimes envy you'.

"There are other guys, Adrianne. You can find someone." Jared snorts. "Not like it probably even matters. There are more important things right now."

Adrianne shakes her head sadly. 'I can barely be around people' she's written down the next time she turns the notepad around. 

"Yeah, well, neither can I." 

Adrianne tugs a strand of blond curls behind her ear, regarding him silently for a few moments. Then she nods. The next message she shows him reads, 'Give yourself some credit. You're doing better than me, though. Just don't push him away too much. Eventually people stop coming back.'

Jared doesn't need to hear her voice to recognize the sadness in her words.

+

It's sunny the next day, the sky almost cloudless as if the previous days of bad weather never happened. The air is a little humid though and that distinct smell of drying pavement lingers in the city.

Jared convinces Adrianne to come check out a few houses with him. She let him share her place for the night, and he feels like it's only fair for him to give back to her. He's been finding enough stuff for two and he has high hopes for this day, too. 

They stay underground for the first part of the journey, but Jared's sense of direction down in the sewage system isn't good enough to get them where he wants to go. He has no idea how Jensen does it, how he always seems to know which turns to take until he finds a blue arrow leading to the camp. Jared and Adrianne walk south, but eventually they have to move up to the streets instead to find their way. 

They walk the streets quietly, both of them alert. Jared tries to keep his steps light, listening for any noises around them. A few times, they have to duck behind dumpsters or into dark alleyways, but the area is quieter than downtown, less humans and less infected there and they make it to the street Jared has been working his way through, house by house, without any major problems.

The first house they search is mostly a bust. Adrianne finds a couple of dented cans of soup that are long out of date and Jared takes a kitchen knife and a full box of matches he finds among the overturned furniture in the living-room. 

They split up in the second house to cover more ground more quickly. Jared takes the upstairs floor while Adrianne takes the kitchen. Jared used to feel weird about this at first, rifling through someone else's belongings and taking things from someone who is most likely dead or infected. The will to survive has made him get over it rather quickly, but he still prefers raiding stores and workplaces. He remembers watching apocalyptic movies before and the most memorable, epic visuals were always those of destroyed, empty cities, with skyscrapers burning and crumbling, but they got it all wrong—it's the residential areas that are the worst, the neat little houses and empty streets, the silence there, the knowledge that children used to play in these streets and families used to live in these houses. There are two childrens’ bedrooms in this house and that's the worst part. Luckily there's hardly ever anything useful in kids' rooms, so Jared just scans them quickly before moving on to what he assumes was the parents' bedroom. It's obviously already been ransacked, but the dust everywhere tells Jared it's been a while and he starts rummaging through things. He finds a handful of clothes items that aren't ripped to shreds, all but one for women, but he can give those to Adrianne or trade them. Among the contents of an overturned drawer, Jared finds a thick pillar candle. 

He moves on to the bathroom next. It's cluttered, things ripped from the cabinets and dropped everywhere, but there's still quite a lot of stuff there. Jared guesses that whoever first looked through this house, back in the day, was probably looking for more essential things—food, clothes, weapons, medicine. As important as those things are, Jared's come to appreciate more luxurious products, like soap and shampoo, as well and he knows these things trade well, too. He's pleased to find a few bars of soap, still wrapped up, and a couple of disposable razors in a make-up bag.

He's rummaging through the things on the floor, being extra careful because there are quite a few shards from a broken mirror and perfume bottles, when he suddenly hears a crash from downstairs, followed by an earsplitting scream. He's never heard Adrianne's voice, doesn't know if she even can talk, but somehow he knows it's her. 

Jared jumps up, almost slipping on the messy tiles. He grabs his gun from where it's stuffed in the back of his jeans, pats his side to check his knife is there as well. 

He doesn't bother being quiet as he rushes down the stairs. He can hear the sounds of a fight, shuffling and thuds, and he follows the noises into the kitchen.

"No," he gasps and comes to a stop. Adrianne is on the floor, two infected kneeling over her. She's still struggling, legs kicking. The infected both look up at Jared, their faces looking pale and sick and their bloodshot eyes glazed over. Jared wastes no time, lifting his gun and shooting the first infected. The other stumbles to get up, rushing at him and Jared shoots it, too. The thud the bodies make as they fall to the ground, the pained gurgling noises echo loudly in the room.

Adrianne is panting, making small pained noises. 

"Adrianne," Jared forces out and drops down at her side. She has a head-wound that's bleeding heavily, scratches along her throat, one on her cheek, and her shirt is ripped, exposing her sluggishly bleeding arm. Jared's seen enough to know it's a bite, the edges of the wound jagged, flesh ripped out. He knows what it means—she's infected.

"No," Jared says, shaking his head. Adrianne lets out a noise, sounding like she's being choked, and she lifts her hand, fingers grazing against Jared's hand that's holding the gun.

"No. No, Adrianne."

She gives him a pleading look and a slow nod. " _Please_ ," she whispers, her voice scratchy. It's the first word she's ever said to him, maybe the first she's said in years. Jared feels his eyes burn, a tear slipping out and sliding hotly down his cheek, then another.

He gets up and raises the gun slowly, and Adrianne gives him a pained smile.

+

Jared makes it out of the house and down into the sewage system before he sinks down, body shaking.

He's seen people die. A lot of them strangers, but some have been people he knew, even people he loved. He thought he'd gotten used to it, thought if it happened again he wouldn't care as much. But it's been a while and he's tried so hard to keep away from people, so losing someone else wouldn't hurt this damn much. But it didn't work—here he is anyway, and his heart hurts and his head as well. Keeping away, keeping everyone at arm's length, doesn't make it hurt any less. 

He doubts he'll ever forget the sound of Adrianne's scream, or that of his gun, so much louder than it ever seemed to sound before. 

Jared sits there for a long time, until he starts shivering from the cold, his pants damp from the ground. He wipes his eyes, still wet and gritty, and picks himself up. He starts walking. Jared doesn't really know where he's going; he just wants to get away. He feels numb, his backpack feeling heavy and his body worn. 

When he sees the first blue arrow, the dried paint looking like someone hastily slapped it on, he follows it without giving it a second thought.

+

Jared climbs over the sturdy, high fence surrounding the compound without Jensen at his side for the first time. He sees a couple of people in the distance, but he hopes they'll leave him alone. He hangs his head and keeps walking, not wanting to talk to anyone.

The wire of Jensen's fence digs into his palms, reminding him of the last time he left, but he ignores the stabs of pain as he swings himself over onto the other side. Something about walking up to Jensen's place makes his eyes tear up again and he rubs them with his fingers. He just wants to forget, wants to crawl into bed with Jensen and think about anything other than what happened, and he wants to get out of these smelly, dirty clothes that he wore when… Jared bites back a sob and starts tugging at his shirt, not caring when he hears the seam rip. He lets his backpack fall to the ground as he stumbles over to the water pump, and keeps pulling at his clothes. Getting them off him suddenly feels like the most important thing in the world. There are splatters of Adrianne's blood on his clothes and he swears he can still smell the metallic scent of it, mingling with the stench of the old sewage system.

When he's down to his underwear, Jared pumps some water up, holding his hand under the spray, and starts scrubbing his skin with his wet hand.

"Jared?" Jensen's voice is the first thing that really gets through to him. He sounds worried, confused, and Jared looks up at him, sees him standing just outside the doorway of his house. "What are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Jared sucks in a shaky breath, his lungs feeling like they're trembling inside his chest. "Adrianne… Adrianne's dead," he manages to say.

" _Jay_. I'm so sorry," Jensen says and takes a few steps closer. "She was one of your friends from the city, right?" 

Jared nods, sniffles. "She… we were in this house and there were two—two infected. I didn't get to her fast enough. She… they bit her." 

"Shit. Shit, Jared," Jensen murmurs and comes even closer, resting a hand on Jared's arm. "What about you? Did you get hurt?" 

Jared shakes his head, rolls his lower lip between his teeth for a moment to stop them from trembling. "I killed them. And… Adrianne. I killed Adrianne," he says, a sob getting stuck in his throat, the noise that comes out strangled and painful. "She asked. But I _killed_ her." 

"Shh, sweetheart. No. They did, not you," Jensen soothes and tugs Jared close, his hand sliding around to Jared's back and giving it a few slow strokes. "Why don't you come inside, huh?" 

"I gotta clean up first," Jared says, shaking his head again. He feels like he's spinning out of control, emotions tumbling through him, feeling frantic and broken. He pulls away from Jensen and tugs at his underwear. "I don't—I don't want to wear any of these things ever again." 

"Okay. Let me help," Jensen says gently. It sounds like he's talking to a child or wounded animal, all soft and careful, but Jared doesn't mind. He feels about as helpless as he imagines a child would.

Jensen helps Jared strip off the rest of his clothes and then goes to get a cloth, before he starts washing Jared down. He even pulls the elastic from Jared's messy hair and makes him bend down to wash his hair. Jared doesn't care that the water is cold or that he's buck naked and someone could drop by Jensen's place and see him.

Afterwards, Jensen ushers Jared inside, leaving Jared's clothes in a pile outside. Jared doesn't have a lot of spare clothes in his rucksack, just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and Jensen lends him some underwear and a hoodie, before making him lie down. He joins him, wrapping Jared up in his arms, and kissing his forehead.

"You should try to get some sleep," he murmurs.

Jared sighs, his lips almost brushing against Jensen's throat. The numbness has given way to tension, his body feeling strung tight. "It's my fault," he whispers, ignoring Jensen's words.

"No. Jared, it's not." 

"I asked her to go with me. Check the place out," Jared admits, the words making his chest hurt. 

"And what, did you know she'd get attacked?" Jensen asks.

"No, but--" 

"No buts," Jensen interrupts, his voice firm but soft. "It can happen anywhere, anytime. No place in the city is truly safe and you know that. She knew that. It's the risk you guys are taking. It can happen to any of us, and the city life is a lot more dangerous." 

"But if I hadn't asked her… " Jared starts, trailing off. The words get stuck in his throat, too painful to say. He breathes in and out, a sob breaking free.

Jensen heaves a sigh and cards his fingers through Jared's damp, knotted hair. "Sweetheart, you can't do that to yourself. ‘What ifs’ will never get you anywhere. She could have just as easily been attacked anywhere else in the city. So stop it, okay?" he says, "She's gone and I'm really sorry. But beating yourself up over this isn't going to do anyone any good." 

Jared nods, but the tears are coming now. He doesn't try to hold back, his sobs painful and wet, soaking Jensen's shirt. Jensen shushes him softly, holds him closer and strokes his hair.

+

Jared's eyes feel gritty when he wakes up, his throat dry. He tries to swallow, to get some spit down his throat. From the small windows at the top of the room light is coming in. The last thing he remembers before he must have fallen asleep was that it was getting dark outside and Jensen was still curled up in bed with him, comforting him.

"Hey," Jensen says softly. 

Jared turns his head and finds Jensen across the room, pouring some water from a big canteen into a mug. 

"Hey," Jared mumbles in reply. Jensen comes to sit down on the mattress with him and hands him the water. Jared pushes himself up and accepts the mug, taking a few sips from it. 

"Thank you," he says. "I slept for a long time, huh?"

"Yeah. You needed the rest, though," Jensen says. "Do you want some food? We kinda skipped dinner yesterday."

Jared feels his stomach tighten painfully at the mention of food. The last time he ate something was yesterday morning. "Food sounds good," he admits.

Jensen nods and gets up. Jared finishes the rest of the water, watching Jensen absently. Jensen comes back with a bowl and an apple. "Left-over from yesterday. It's just a vegetable soup, canned with some fresh stuff from my garden thrown in," he explains. 

"What about you?"

"I already ate. Been up for a couple of hours," Jensen says. "Eat."

"Thank you. It's better than what I usually eat," Jared admits and carefully balances the bowl on his lap, not wanting to spill anything.

"It's one of the advantages of living in the camp. We can grow our own stuff and can cook over fires without having to worry about drawing anything to us," Jensen says. "It makes cooking a whole lot easier."

"You also keep a lifetime supply of matches stored away somewhere?" Jared asks, teasingly, before eating a spoonful of the soup. It's cold, but it's still one of the best things he's eaten in a long time.

"You know, people were able to light fires long before matches were invented," Jensen replies with a small smile. "I've told you about JD, right?"

"The name sounds familiar."

"He lives in one of the bigger houses. The guy's the best, man. He's lived all over the country, had all kinds of crazy jobs before the virus. I don't think he ever lived in one place for very long since the day he graduated high school. He built a cabin with some friends somewhere in the woods, too, and lived there for a couple of years and he traveled the country with nothing but a backpack and a tent for a while, doing odd jobs here and there," Jensen says, looking animated as he talks. Jared feels a flash of jealousy that he knows he has no right to feel nor a reason to. 

"So, he's the greatest guy alive," he says, trying not to sound too snappy.

Jensen gives him a confused, yet questioning look, lips quirked into a small smile. "No. But he knows a lot of shit about living in the wild and on the road. He taught me a lot of it—like making a fire, and what mushrooms and berries you can eat. Stuff like that," he says. "I'm not sure the camp would be doing as well as it does without him."

Jared rolls his lower lip between his teeth and focuses on eating some more soup.

Jensen leans closer, brushes a kiss against Jared's jaw. "Got a girlfriend who adores him, too," he murmurs, the point he's trying to make clear without him having to say it. Jared flushes.

"Good for him," he says and Jensen nuzzles his cheek.

"Yeah, good for him," he agrees and then nips at Jared's jaw before pulling away with a small grin. It's playful, teasing, but Jared still feels heat start to pool in his stomach, his dick filling just from that. 

And maybe that's just what he needs, he thinks, as he turns his head and chases Jensen's lips, catching them in a quick kiss.

His breakfast is soon forgotten, the bowl set aside as Jensen pushes him down onto the mattress and starts undressing him between kisses that turn deeper, dirtier, hands roaming over skin, bodies rocking together.

Jensen fucks him like that, face to face, Jared's legs wrapped around him and pulling him in, deeper and harder and faster.

+

Jared has never stayed with Jensen for more than one night. But once they finally make it out of bed, it's well into the day already and Jared feels reluctant to leave. The thought of being back out there, in the city where Adrianne died, making his way through the sewers again and back to the building where he last stayed, makes his stomach knot.

Jensen doesn't comment when Jared doesn't leave. When he says he planned on getting some work done in his garden and Jared offers to help, he goes with it as if it's happened a million times before. They pull weeds, water the plants, and harvest cabbage and carrots, Jensen patiently walking Jared through the things he isn't familiar with.

"It's weird. All this fresh produce," Jared says as he places carrots into a basket. "I've gotten so used to eating things that come in cans." 

"Yeah. I know. It's nice to have this every once in a while," Jensen says. "You know, some of the others grow different stuff and we usually trade whatever we have. I'll probably go see them tomorrow." 

Jared hesitates, looking down at his dirty hands. "It sounds like a good system," he admits, voice soft. 

"It works for us," Jensen says and smiles kindly. "You can come with me, if you want. You've met some other people from the camp, right? We'll see what they have." 

The thought of making plans, thinking about tomorrow, doesn't sit quite right with Jared. He's here now, wants to be here, but he doesn't know what that means other than that he's feeling a little fucked-up right now. That Jensen makes him feel better. He might feel differently tomorrow, though, might want to leave the moment he gets up and he doesn't want to make any promises. He hasn't done that in a long time. "I don't know," he settles on. 

Jensen puts a few more vegetables into the basket and then touches Jared's arm. "You don't have to." 

Jared exhales slowly, deliberately, and shrugs. "I have nothing to trade anyway." 

"We have this," Jensen points out with a smile, waving his hand at their day's loot.

Jared shakes his head. "That's yours." 

"I don't mind sharing. You've helped, so I owe you," Jensen replies and shrugs. "And I know you have some things in that bag of yours you can share with me, too. That way we're even." 

Jared hesitates. He wants to shoot the idea down, but a part of him is tired of leaving, of fighting Jensen all the time, and Jensen isn't wrong. There's some stuff Jared has that he could share with Jensen, things he doesn't want anyway because they're from his raid with Adrianne. 

"Okay," he agrees and Jensen shoots him a pleased smile. He steps closer, cups Jared's face with a dirty, gritty hand and gives him a kiss, slow and sure. 

"How about we clean up, get this stored away and then we'll see what we want to do for the rest of the day?" he suggests.

"Do?" Jared asks, grateful that Jensen isn't making a big deal out of this, isn't pushing him.

Jensen smirks, "Yeah. I can think of a few fun things."

+

Naked and curled up together, Jared relaxes. The covers are just barely up to their hipbones, the air in the room a little chilly but still feeling nice on his overheated skin. He's sprawled out over Jensen's chest, head resting over his heart, and he'd hate it if it didn't feel so good. Instead, he forces himself not to think about it—again—and tries to enjoy the moment of peace, of not thinking about what happened and what's out there. Jensen is a damn good distraction.

Sighing, Jared pulls away a little and stretches, before he touches his finger to the tattoo on Jensen's arm, tracing the letters. Jensen holds still, his other arm curled loosely around Jared, fingers rubbing small circles onto the skin of Jared's back.

"What happened here?" Jared asks, voice quiet. He's breaking his own rule of not asking too many questions, not trying to get to know someone too much. But after what happened with Adrianne it feels pointless anyway—he never asked too many questions with her, always tried to keep his distance, and losing her, having to shoot her, still hurt more than Jared was prepared for. And he regrets it now. Regrets not getting to know her better, being a better friend, maybe offering her some kind of comfort, closeness, he didn't even know she needed. But Jensen is here, alive and well, and Jared doesn't want to make the same mistakes again. Pushing Adrianne away wasn't any better than keeping her close, and Jensen already means so much more. And Jared is tired. He's just so tired of fighting him.

Jensen sighs, keeps quiet for a while. When he talks, his voice is soft, sad. "I got it right before graduating college. The original one, the one that said 'near'. Thought it was funny; the fun is over and real life is about to begin, you know?" he says, huffing out a laugh. "And then when people started to get sick, when it became kinda obvious that this wasn't just something that would pass, a buddy of mine changed it. We were both pretty drunk, scared out of our minds but hiding it—at least I was. I never really asked him how he felt; we never really talked about it." 

Jared runs a finger over the words again and again, slowly. 

"I remember us laughing our asses off while he did this," Jensen continues. "He kept mocking me, telling me how it looked like I didn't know how to spell and people would just think I'm an idiot. He said it would finally tarnish my good reputation."

"Well, the fact that you let a buddy tattoo you kinda does make me think you're a bit of an idiot," Jared jokes, but it sounds a little flat. 

"He got infected a couple of weeks later," Jensen says, just a soft whisper. The words hit Jared right in the gut. It shouldn't be a surprise. They've all lost a lot of people, pretty much everyone in their lives, but Jensen has always seemed different. There's none of the bitterness Jared feels, the pain that manifests itself in anger and withdrawing. Jensen reminds him a bit of before, kind and patient and caring. Endlessly good.

Jared sucks in a breath, turns his head and softly kisses Jensen's chest. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm sorry, Jensen." 

"Yeah. We all are," Jensen says, and tightens his arm around Jared.

+

They go to trade Jensen's vegetables and some of the things Jared found on his last raid the next day. The camp isn't huge, but Jensen lives a little bit off the main cluster of houses and as they walk there Jared realizes they're farther away than he thought.

Jared isn't sure what he expected, but it's easier than he thought. Most of the people seem happy to trade, expecting Jensen to drop by even, and nobody really seems to care about Jared’s unexpected presence there with him. There are a little over four dozen people living in the camp, and while Jared only meets a few, he quickly realizes they all know each other well. Nobody even has to ask Jensen what he has to trade and might look for in return. This is what Jared assumes it must have been like in towns and settlements hundreds of years ago, when everyone had different things and skill sets to offer to the community. They trade cabbage for some squash, carrots for apples, and Jared gets some canned food and clothes for the knife he found and the soaps.

They don't have a lot left when Jensen leads them to one of the big farm houses.

The guy who greets them outside looks familiar, older with thinning gray hair and a gray beard. Jared knows he's met him in the city a couple of times, though he doesn't remember his name. He looks paler, thinner than the last time Jared saw him though.

"Jared, right? I'm Jim," the man says, giving him a small smile and greeting Jared with a firm handshake. "How are you? Jensen showing you the ropes?"

Jared shrugs. "Yeah," he says, not sure what to say. "How are you?"

The words come out a little stilted, polite like his mother taught him to be.

Jim's generic smile turns into a grin. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he asks and glances at Jensen.

"Leave him alone, old man," Jensen shoots back and claps Jared on the shoulder. "Is Sam inside? We got some vegetables you guys might like, and Jared has some things, too."

"Sure, kid. She's inside. You know your way," Jim says, nodding his head at the front door of the farm house looming behind them. Jensen gives him a smile before motioning for Jared to follow him inside.

He leads him into a spacious, if rundown, kitchen. Some of the wallpaper inside is peeling, the paint needing a touch-up, but overall Jared has seen houses in a shape a lot worse. 

A woman who Jared assumes must be Sam is sitting at a big old table, knitting what seems to be a scarf. She looks to be only a few years older than Jensen, blond hair tied back in a messy bun, and she greets Jensen with a smile and a warm hug. 

When Jensen introduces him, her smile turns more amused. "Ah, Jared," she says, and shoots Jensen a look that seems pointed, but Jared doesn't quite know what to think of it.

"Sam is one of the first people I got to know around here," Jensen says, seeming to ignore their silent conversation. "This actually used to be her grandparents' farm." 

"Which means, luckily, I know a bit about farming," Sam says with a grin. "All these idiots would be lost without me."

"I hear JD knows pretty much everything there is to know," Jared can't help but say, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Sam looks a little surprised before she bursts into a laugh.

"He knows a thing or two, but he's kinda distracted by Danneel."

"The girlfriend," Jared guesses.

"Yeah. That'd be her," Sam agrees. "So. What do you two have for me this week? I have plenty of potatoes I can trade and a bunch of herbs, too."

"You're heaven sent, Sam," Jensen says, and puts his backpack down on the table. 

Sam makes them tea before they hash out the details, which mainly means Sam offers Jensen more than he is willing to take and Jared gets the impression it's not the first time this has happened. 

Jensen's argument seems to be that there are more people living at the farm and he can't possibly use all the produce Sam wants to give him. She quickly shoots that down, pointing out that with Jared they're two tall, grown men who need to keep their strength up, and Jared doesn't have the heart to tell her that he might not be staying around for that long. And it's kinda nice to see Jensen lose their little battle of wills, accepting more than Jared can tell he wants to.

Things are all hashed out and they're on their second cup of tea by the time Jim comes in. He pours himself a cup and joins them, sitting down with a sigh, and Jared doesn't miss the concerned look Sam and Jensen share.

"You guys done?" Jim asks, looking around the table, before meeting Jared's gaze. "These two, they're pretty much the opposite of cut-throat. It can get exhausting."

"I noticed," Jared says. 

Jim nods and takes a sip of his steaming tea. "So, Jared. You're one of the city folk, huh?"

"City folk," Jared echoes and shrugs, because he's heard terms a lot worse for people like him. "I guess."

"Hmm." Jim nods, looking thoughtful. "I talked to a few people the last few times I was in the city. Heard some interesting things."

"Like what?" Jared asks. 

Jim gives him a look. "You know, mostly just talk, I suppose," he says. "But a couple of people mentioned that there are less zombies walking the streets lately."

The answer surprises Jared. He hasn't heard the same kind of talk, but then again, be never really _talks_ to people. "I wouldn't know," he says. "I try my best to avoid the _infected_."

"You think the numbers are declining?" Jensen interjects. His hands are wrapped around his mug, thumbs rubbing over the smooth porcelain and Jared's eyes follow the movement for a moment. He likes Jensen's hands; they're big and strong, fingers long and thick, and yet Jared knows how gentle they are, how good and safe Jensen can make him feel with them, and just looking at them now calms something deep inside him.

"I don't know. Maybe," Jim says. "It might just be a rumor. And even if it's true it might still mean nothing."

"But?" Jensen prompts.

Sam clears her throat before Jim answers. "It's not that weird a theory," she says. "There aren't as many people as there used to be and we appear to be their main food source. So..."

"So, the fewer humans, the fewer infected?" Jensen concludes and hums. "It would make sense."

Jim sighs. "Yeah. It sounds plausible," he says. "But we don't really know if that's how it works."

He gives Jared another look, like he's expecting some kind of insight, but Jared can only shrug. "Sorry," he mutters. Under the table, Jensen places a hand on Jared's thigh and gives it a squeeze. 

The theory doesn't leave Jared's mind, though. He hates getting his hopes up, but it does make a certain amount of sense. The infected probably need something to sustain them and that means they need people to survive—the question then is who goes first, them or humans?

+

Jared dreams about Adrianne that night. He's watching her get ripped apart, hears the sound of teeth tearing into her flesh, and he can't move, can't get to her. And then suddenly it's not Adrianne, but his little sister, and Jared wakes up screaming and sweating.

A hand runs down his arm, slow and comforting.

"Jared. Jay, it's okay. It's okay," Jensen murmurs, and his voice is what brings Jared back, reminds him where he is. Jensen doesn't let up, nuzzles Jared's jaw. "I'm here. You're safe. You're fine."

"Fuck," Jared mutters, his throat aching. He sits up, struggling with the sheets wrapped around his body, and tries bracing his hands on his knees, trying to get his breathing to calm down. His heart is racing, stomach turning. 

The chilly air from the cracked open windows feels good on his skin, but Jared feels even better when Jensen sits up and leans into him, kisses his shoulder.

"Okay?" he asks softly.

"Just a dream," Jared mutters and nods. Jensen sighs and kisses him again, working a path up his neck.

"Let me get some water for you," he murmurs, and gets up. 

When he returns, Jared accepts the mug Jensen hands him gratefully, sipping the cool liquid. Jensen tosses something else onto his lap and in the dark, Jared doesn't realize what it is until he picks it up.

"Cigarettes?" he asks.

Jensen crawls back under the sheets with him. "It's an emergency pack," he says, and Jared snorts. Jensen scoots back until he's sitting with his back against the wall and Jared is glad the mug is mostly empty and he doesn't spill water everywhere when Jensen tugs him in against him. 

"You could probably trade these for a shit-ton of supplies," Jared notes, as Jensen pulls out a cigarette and lights it with a flick of a lighter.

"Yeah," Jensen agrees. "But then what would I use in emergencies?"

Jared laughs softly and accepts the burning cigarette Jensen hands him. He takes a slow drag, coughing a little at the way it makes his lungs burn, and passes it back to Jensen. He scoots down, until he can rest his head against Jensen's shoulder.

+

They just hang out the next day and Jared feels himself starting to get a little twitchy with the familiar urge to get up and leave.

Jensen airs out the sheets and they make dinner with the produce they traded and then Jensen fucks him, Jared on his hands and knees on Jensen's bed and Jensen fucking into him from behind, before the sun has even set. There's something desperate about it, the way their bodies move together, Jensen thrusts deep and hard and Jared is pushing back into it, like he can't get Jensen in deep enough. Jensen sits back on his haunches and pulls Jared with him, makes him sprawl out on his lap, hard and begging. He ruts into Jared, hands digging bruises into the flesh of Jared's hips, his mouth sucking and biting at Jared's neck. 

It's fast and dirty, both of them sweaty and panting, bodies grinding together until they come with cries on their lips.

Later, curled together, Jared coaxes Jensen into fucking him again, slower, gentler, their lips fused together in needy kisses. 

It feels like a goodbye, but Jared tries not to think about it as his moans get muffled by Jensen's lips, pleasure ricocheting through his body.

+

Jensen doesn't try to make him stay. Instead, he helps Jared pack wordlessly the next morning, stowing more than Jared's share of the things they traded a couple of days ago into his backpack.

"Jensen," Jared tries right before he leaves, feeling both miserable and wanting to escape, helpless as he stands there facing Jensen.

"It's okay. You don't owe me anything," Jensen says, giving him a small smile. 

"I kinda do," Jared admits. Jensen cups his cheek, his palm warm and calloused.

"No. It's okay. I get it. Just… be careful," he says, his tone soft yet pleading. 

Jared gives him his best reassuring smile. "I always am," he says.

This time, when Jared leaves, he does look back. At the small house that's seen better days, and Jensen standing outside the doorway, watching him go.

+

Jared spends the first night in the city. He goes back to the place where he and Adrianne stayed the night before she died. It's not something he wants to do, but both of their things are still there and he needs his sleeping bag and hates the thought of some random looter finding Adrianne's things. He doesn't really know what to do with them, though—keeping them, profiting from Adrianne's death in any way feels too wrong. So he packs anything that might be useful—food and clothes for the most part—and decides to give them to the people at the camp the next time he's there.

Looking through her assortment of things, he finds her notepad, too. It's flipped open to the page she used last, when she was talking to Jared. He reads over her words, again and again, tracing her writing with his fingertips.

It's funny that the last thing they talked about was Jensen. Jensen, who Jared would have sworn meant nothing to him a few days ago, yet he's the first person he thought of after what happened with Adrianne. The person he ran to, the person he sought out to comfort him.

 _I sometimes envy you_ , Adrianne wrote. Her words make Jared's chest hurt, because Adrianne deserved better. Deserved to have someone, too. And because she is right—there is something there to envy, no matter how much Jared has tried to deny it.

+

Jared makes it a week before he's back at Jensen's.

Jensen is outside, washing clothes in a small tub. He comes up to the fence when he sees Jared approaching, unlocks it for him and lets him inside. He's smiling and he welcomes Jared with a kiss. 

"Got some clothes that need washing?" he asks and gestures at the metal tub of soapy, murky water. 

It's stupid, but it feels like a little too much, too soon. Jared ducks it head. "I can do it myself," he mutters. 

Jensen rolls his eyes at him. "Dude, I heated it up over a fire. Took me for-fucking-ever, so it's now or never," he says, tugging at the hem of Jared's shirt. "Come on, take this off. I'll wash it while getting to ogle you, so we both win."

"Jensen," Jared tries. "I don't need you to do stuff for me."

"I'm not," Jensen says and smiles brightly. "No offense, but you kinda smell, gorgeous. So let me do your laundry and you can scrub yourself down while I do. I have to share my bed with you tonight, so you'd really be the one doing me a favor."

"I don't smell that bad," Jared mutters, but he knows he actually kind of does. So he strips down and after a moment of hesitation, he hands Jensen the clothes that used to belong to Adrianne, too. Jensen looks first at them, then at Jared, but he doesn't say a thing as he dunks them into the water.

+

Jared starts staying with Jensen a lot more regularly and usually ends up staying for more than one night.

They don't talk about it and Jensen never complains, never fusses when Jared packs his things and leaves. The days they spend together are different though; they talk more—about random things, from their pasts to their lives now—and Jared helps Jensen with his garden. It's not quite domestic, not what Jared would call a relationship, but it's a lot more than the random hooking-up they used to do, too.

The sex is also different. Sometimes it's still frantic, hard and fast, but other times it's more drawn out, long make-out sessions followed by slow, lazy sex that almost feels like before, when Jared didn't have a care in the world and just enjoyed being with a partner. They kiss more, touch more, and when Jensen murmurs pet names into his skin while slowly sinking into him, Jared doesn't complain, he just clutches Jensen a little closer and enjoys the way it makes his stomach swoop and his pleasure spike.

+

"Jared!"

Jared curls his fingers more tightly around the strap of his backpack and looks over his shoulder. He's not far from the fence and he knows technically he's safe, that he doesn't have to worry about the people who live in the camp, but his instincts make him tense up.

He relaxes a little again when he recognizes Sam, her blond ponytail swinging as she walks briskly towards him, wrapped up in a deep green jacket. It's not quite raining, but the sky is overcast and the air damp and chilly.

"Hi Sam," he greets once she's a little closer.

"Hey," Sam returns and gives him a small smile. It looks a little forced. "Are you heading back into the city?"

Jared glances at the fence, not that far away, and nods. "Yeah. Why?"

"You think you can try getting us some meds? We're running low on all kinds of things," Sam says, hugging her arms a little more tightly around herself. "We go on supply runs every now and then, but you probably know the city better than we do by now. Know where to find things."

"I can try," Jared concedes. 

"We'll trade them for other things. Food, clothes," Sam adds. "Whatever you need. This kinda weather, people catch a cold every now and then and I'm sure you know how easily it can turn into something else. Jim has been sick on and off for weeks now. And the idiot refuses to take it easy, you know?"

Jared nods, even though he doesn't really know Jim and what he's like. "I'll keep my eyes open," he promises. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, though." 

"That's okay," Sam says, her words spoken slowly, hesitatingly. She gives him another one of those forced smiles. "Just don't leave him waiting too long." 

Jared is confused for only a second, before he realizes she's not talking about Jim anymore. She's talking about Jensen. 

"He worries about you when you're gone," Sam adds, her tone careful. "Not that he's ever really said anything, but I can tell. Hell, I’ve told him to forget about you more than once." 

The words make Jared tense up, a need to defend himself kicking in instantly. "Thanks," he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

"It's nothing personal, Jared," Sam replies, her expression softening, tone soothing. Jared curls his hands into fists. "But Jensen's a good guy. Getting hung up on someone who is out there, putting himself in danger every day, isn't going to do him any good. He deserves better, don't you think?" 

"You're saying I shouldn't come back," Jared concludes, feeling more hurt than angry. 

"I'm saying don't toy with him," Sam says, looking at him with something that's almost pity. "He might hide it well, but that doesn't mean letting you go every time isn't hard on him." 

Jared licks his too dry lips. "He always knows I'll leave again," he points out. "I never lied to him about that or led him on." 

"No, you didn't," Sam agrees softly. "That doesn't mean it doesn't affect him when you do. Think about it, Jared."

Jared clenches his jaw and nods. "I'll get back to you with the meds as soon as I can," he grits out and turns around sharply. He wonders what Jensen said to trigger this, if he's said anything at all, but Jared can't even deny that maybe Sam has a point. 

Jensen does deserve better than him, than someone as fucked up as him who keeps running away. From Jensen, from people, hell, even from cities. It's all he's been doing for the last couple of years.

+

Jared thinks about not going back for exactly one day.

But he promised to get Sam meds and he doesn't want to break that promise. And, if Jared is quite honest, he doesn't want to stay away from Jensen either. He doesn't want to stay in the city or leave altogether and never see Jensen again. He should, but he _can't_.

He stays in the city for a while though, long enough to gather plenty of medication. He loots through houses and stores and packs everything he finds away. It takes him a while, longer than the recent breaks between seeing Jensen have been, and maybe he's stalling, too. But eventually, after close to three weeks, he's got a decent amount of medicine stashed in his backpack and his stomach is twisting with guilt for leaving the people at the camp waiting. For making Jensen wait.

Jensen greets him with a kiss, the way he always does these days, but it feels a little more desperate than usual. He pulls Jared into his house and downstairs to his living quarters.

"Hey, gorgeous," he murmurs, twisting his fingers in Jared's hair and grinning up at him. "Been a while, huh?"

Jared brushes a kiss against his lips, soft and apologetic. "I had stuff to do," he says, feeling himself relax, melt into Jensen, his chest feeling a little tight with how much he missed this, missed Jensen.

"Stuff?" Jensen murmurs, lips seeking Jared for another kiss. Jared hums into it, his hands wrapping around Jensen's waist, tugging him in close.

"The meds," he mumbles, trying to worm his hands under Jensen's shirt. He slides his lips from Jensen's to his jaw, feeling the stubble under his mouth and breathing in the now familiar scent of Jensen.

Jensen gently, but firmly, pushes him away though, hands curled around Jared's upper arms. "What meds?" he asks, sounding concerned. "Is someone sick? Are _you_ sick?"

"No. _No_ ," Jared quickly says, shaking his head. He tries to pull Jensen back in again, closer, while he explains. "Sam asked me to get some stuff for you. Says you guys needed some meds; just for people catching a cold this time of the year and stuff."

"And she asked _you_?" Jensen asked, tipping his head back and peering up at Jared. His brows are drawn together.

"Why not?"

"Because we make trips to the city regularly," Jensen points out. "She could have asked any of us."

"Well, I'm there a lot more," Jared points out. "I probably know the city better than some of you."

"Some," Jensen says. "But not all of us. Hell, Sam has lived here all her life."

"Jensen," Jared tries, tugging at Jensen. Jensen shakes him loose though and takes a step back, cocking his head to the side. He regards Jared, seriously, silently.

"What are you not telling me?" he asks.

"Nothing," Jared defends.

Jensen crosses his arms over his chest, unwavering. "When did you even see her? You barely know each other."

"Look, she came up to me last time I was leaving," Jared tries and shrugs. "It's not big deal."

"Jared," Jensen prods.

Jared slumps a little, throwing his hands up. "What do you want me to say, Jensen?"

"The truth. Come on, things have been good. Real good," Jensen says. "So you're telling me Sam approached you and asked you to get some meds because someone, what, has the sniffles and you disappear on me for _three_ weeks?"

"I never said I'd be back sooner."

Jensen sighs and runs a hand over his face, giving Jared a look that's so worn-out and pained, Jared feels a little sick knowing it's his fault. This is exactly what he didn't want, what Sam tried to prevent—Jensen getting caught in Jared's mess and getting hurt.

"Sam thinks I shouldn't come back here at all," he finally admits, his voice soft and _broken_ and he hates it. He sniffs, biting down on the side of his lower lip until he feels a stab of pain.

"What?" Jensen asks, tone harsher, angrier. Jared shrugs helplessly.

"She didn't come right out and say that," he attempts to appease Jensen. "She just... implied that it would be better. That I'm hurting you."

Jensen scoffs. "And you think she's right?" he asks, sounding downright pissed off now.

"I don't know," Jared replies, voice rising a little, frustrated and hurt and hating the situation he suddenly finds himself in, because he never wanted this to happen for either of them. "I don't _know_ , okay? Yeah, maybe. Because I know you want more and I don't know how to give that to you and maybe she's right. Maybe you do deserve better."

"That's _ridiculous_ ," Jensen snaps. "Do I wish you wouldn't leave? Sure, yes. But have you maybe thought about the fact that having you here for a few days now and then is better than not having you at all?" 

The words, angry as they are, leave Jared quiet. He just shrugs, looking down at the floor, not wanting to meet Jensen's eyes, Jensen's anger. He's not used to this, to Jensen being like this. Jensen is always calm, understanding, and Jared has never seen him this worked up.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jared," Jensen explodes. "You _stupid idiot_ , I'm in love with you." 

The words make Jared freeze, his chest squeezing tight. He sucks in a deep breath and looks up again. Jensen is looking at him, face flushed and expression so open, so vulnerable, it makes Jared ache. "I'm not sure how to do this," he whispers.

"Bullshit," Jensen says, voice calmer yet sharper. 

"What?" 

"You're already doing it. We're doing it," Jensen says and takes a step closer, then another. "We're already in a relationship, whether you admit it or not, Jared. This isn't casual, it hasn't been casual in a long time." 

Jared licks his lips, nervous. "I never stay," he points out.

Jensen shrugs. "Staying wouldn't make you happy, would it?" He reaches out, placing his hands on Jared's waist before sliding them further back, around Jared.

"It's not that I don't like being here. I like it," Jared says, letting himself be pulled close. He leans into Jensen, lets his body support some of his weight. "But after a while… it gets too much, I guess. I get this itch. To leave, to be on my own." 

Jensen gives him a look, all soft and fond, all anger drained from him, and Jared can practically hear him call him an idiot. He feels like one, too. "I know. I get it, Jay," Jensen says.

"Do you?" 

"Yes. And I'm willing to let you go every time you need me to," Jensen replies. "I just want you to come back." 

Jared smiles, slow and tentative. He suddenly feels drained, but lighter than he has in a long time, like something has been lifted off him, a worry, a fear he hasn't even allowed himself to think about. "I tried staying away. It didn't really work," he admits. "I thought maybe Sam was right, but... I just couldn't."

"Good," Jensen says, smiling back. He angles his face up and brushes his lips over Jared's, just a soft ghost of a kiss. "I don't want you to stay away. That's all I'm asking. That you come back to me."

"I can do that," Jared says and finally relaxes into Jensen, wrapping his own arms around him. He's taller than Jensen, too tall for this, but he still manages to bury his face into the crook of Jensen's neck, slumping down into him, soaking in the familiar warmth and scent. It reminds him of when he was a kid and his mother wrapped him up in a blanket, warm and soft and safe.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Jensen assures him, kisses the shell of his hear. "Just... come back sooner next time, okay?"

"Yeah," Jared agrees and snorts, the sound muffled, wet, his throat feeling tight. "I promise. I _missed_ you."

"I missed you, too," Jensen says, all hushed and soft. He pulls away, a slow untangling of limbs, and cups Jared's face in his hands, smiling. "Nobody has ever made me work that damn hard for a relationship, you know that?"

Jared snorts out a laugh. "I'm kinda fucked up," he says, his voice cracking.

"Yeah. But we all are." Jensen tells him and draws him down into a soft kiss. "We can be fucked up together, sweetheart. That's what makes it okay."

**the end**


End file.
